April showers arrived three days early, the better to get that jump on May flowers I suppose, but who really knows for sure. One day you wake up and suddenly everything is green, everything is fresh and new and the birds are singing and there you are, walking city sidewalks just like you did yesterday, but different. It's all different.
This time round the separation anxiety was acute, but anxiety is old-hat round my parts these days; it seems the things that go bump have no regard for time of day anymore. Which is funny (no it's not), because neither does my circadian rhythm. Instead of tulips! and ducklings! and sunlight! I've become nocturnal, hooting the night away from my perch, wondering how the hell I ended up so high and so very alone. The things that pass for normalcy these days, I tell ya.
But now that I've fluttered home finally I'll let things sit for a while, let them wait with breath bated (and then let them fester and rot in all likelihood) before picking up my next itinerary. I think perhaps this year I'll watch for the longest day of the year. Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it.
She said.
I always watch for the day that things turn green and then miss it.
ReplyDeleteCome visit me, she said.
ReplyDeletewell, i'm aiming for portland the week that stars is there. it's not la, but it's close-ish.
ReplyDeleteI always miss it, too. But we're experts at missing.
ReplyDeleteTRUE. (also, don't think i forgot about drinkies.)
ReplyDeleteum, maybe i will come to portland. that would be fun. shari should come too.
ReplyDeletei always miss the longest day of the year too. and i excel at letting things fester.
ReplyDeletehi, kat.